


WWRBGD

by LadyBlack3



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Ginny Weasley, BAMF Women, F/F, F/M, Leadership, Women In Power
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29735571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBlack3/pseuds/LadyBlack3
Summary: "Women belong in all places where decisions are being made. It shouldn't be that women are the exception" was a quote Editor-in-chief Ginny Weasley lived by. She quickly learns that being a woman in the public space has a price when trying to enact change. Sometimes she has to take example from the women who paved the way before her, or simply ask herself - What Would Ruth Bader Ginsburg Do?
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Ginny Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7
Collections: International Witches Day





	WWRBGD

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [International_Witches_Day](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/International_Witches_Day) collection. 



> Such an honour to take part in this fest to celebrate our collective impact as women! As ever, English is not my native tongue and I don't have a beta so any mistakes are my own. I do not own Harry Potter, but the plot is my own. I do not profit from this work. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

**1st July 2016**

“You look great,” Padma reassured her as they looked over the prepared speech one more time and Ginny quickly re-applied her dark burgundy lipstick, the only make up she was wearing. Her hair was lustrous and freshly cut for the occasion, aware that the public pressure was only going to increase with scrutiny of this move. She was determined for this step in her career to begin on the right foot.

“Is everyone ready? Did Kathleen finish the evening edition piece?” She double-checked as she set the printed speech down on her new table. 

“Absolutely, they wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Padma grinned and smoothed down her new dress.

“Perfect,” she nodded and took a deep breath, ready to head out. “Let’s go,” she opened the door and motioned for Padma to go ahead before she followed, stepping into the press room of the Daily Prophet headquarters which was lined with key personnel and approximately twenty eager journalists. 

“Good morning all,” she greeted as she walked over to the middle of the room in front of them all, her staff surrounding her on both sides in a show of unity. She waited for the murmured response with a small, professional smile before beginning. “Thank you all for joining us today. Twenty-fifteen has been a difficult but successful year for the Daily Prophet. As you are all aware, our previous Editor in Chief, Robert Clarkson, and Managing Editor, Rita Skeeter, were sentenced under the new Print Law passed by the Wizengamot nearly two years ago. This change of leadership allowed us to implement significant development opportunities for our team, and new strategic objectives as the leading newspaper in the country, including establishing a new programme for latest journalistic talent, as well as focus on serious news reporting and broadening our team focus.

“As Editor-in-chief, I am delighted to announce today that the Daily Prophet ranks have been enriched with new talent consisting of several latest graduates from Hogwarts who have shown great potential in our award-winning internship programme. We have implemented key changes in our department structure which resulted in a team that reflects the progressive culture in print media and in our society.

“I would like to therefore introduce you to Pansy Zabini, Managing Editor in Residence, who will be supporting our equal opportunity objective to represent and employ diverse voices,” she motioned at the brunette who looked like the Slytherin queen in her stylish bob, sleek Chanel dress and signature hawk-like gaze. No one thought the wealthy young heiress to the Parkinson family fortune would work once she married Lord Zabini, but here she was, successful and regal as ever,

“Leading our Political Correspondence and Investigative team will be the award-winning journalist Daphne Greengrass, who will bring her experience as Senior Investigative Journalist to a new team which has been joined by Mr Carson Putters, Miss Liza Bell and Miss Amanda Cabbot from our latest internship programme,” she nodded to the beautiful blonde who was the complete opposite to Pansy, looking neutral if a bit detached in her elegant grey skirt suit. She caught Daphne’s eye for just a moment but detected a warmth in the gaze that she was starting to become familiar with over the past months of working with the impressive woman,

“Our business editorial team will benefit from leadership by our Senior Business Consultant Ernie MacMillan, who will bring in a new column in partnership with the muggle newspaper the Times, in order to reflect the many interests we all have in our national economy, whether wix or muggle,” she nodded to the young man who grew into himself over the past years with his dedication and tireless work ethic. He looked neat and no-nonsense in his navy suit, trying to stem the twitch to clean his glasses incessantly as he was want to,

“Leading our Sports reporting will be Peaches McCalla, bringing her experience form the National Quidditch League representation to a new team that will provide a comprehensive reflection on Quidditch, as well as other sports such as football and rugby which were voted by our readers as the most popular muggle sports they engage with,” she introduced the impressively-built woman of Jamaican heritage who garnered an excited murmur from a couple of the men familiar with her career. She was strong and tall at nearly six feet in height, several tattoos peaking from underneath her rolled-up sleeves. Peaches was their newest addition, Ginny discovered her in one of the local newspapers in Edinburgh and offered her a contract that very day. She felt good about the appointment and hoped the Sports team will be welcoming,

“And last but not least, the Lifestyle section of Daily Prophet will be led by Padma Patil, previously our correspondent for weddings and the ball season. We hope to expand our lifestyle section to include information on the latest technology assisting our well-being, as well as a new segment on nutrition with an opportunity for the experienced home-makers of Wizarding Britain to share their tips and tried-and-trusted recipes to preserve our cultural heritage,” she nodded to Padma who beamed at the cameras, looking resplendent and every bit a stylish young woman in a turquoise dress that set off her lovely bronze skin tone. 

She turned back to the reporters before her, her tone growing serious once again. “We are all in this room aware of the tradition within print media that reflected male-leadership and rigid hierarchal structures, and as a young woman I had to face barriers in participating in leadership within the organisation myself. This re-structuring has led to a staggering 83% representation of women in our decision-making process, which is unprecedented in the history of the Daily Prophet, and currently unmatched by any other newspaper in the UK.

“The American activist for gender equality and women’s rights, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, once said that ‘Women belong in all places where decisions are being made. It shouldn't be that women are the exception’ and I am delighted to announce that we at the Daily Prophet reflect this need for leadership by women and will continue to provide equal opportunity to new journalistic talent regardless of sex, race, economic background or blood status. It is time for all leading organisations and institutions in our country to reflect this objective, especially as we continue our post-war economic development where women absolutely play a role. I would like to thank my team for their trust in my leadership and their dedication to the Daily Prophet, and invite you all to subscribe to our the daily delivery ahead of our new format launch on the First of August. Thank you,” she nodded to all and they all stood still as the cameras flashed to take the powerful photograph of the latest change-makers. 

“Editor Weasley, will you take questions?” Elsbeth Parsons from Witch Weekly piped up from the front row. 

“Just a couple,” she agreed and nodded for her to go ahead. 

“To what extend did your background influence your decision to make these changes within the Daily Prophet?”

Ginny offered a practiced smile. “Our journey in always informed by our lived experience, and the same can be said for mine. I have the greatest respect for my mum who raised seven children on a tight budget and fought bravely in both Wizarding Wars. I am also inspired by my incredible friends, in particular Hermione Granger who is a trailblazer in her own right at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Hannah Abbot who is one of the most dedicated and innovative leaders as the Head Nurse at St Mungo’s. Our target to truly represent women’s leadership stems from the recognition of our value to the British Wizarding society across all economic backgrounds. I value my family, friends and colleagues, and will continue to make sure that we as a newspaper represent the voice of our population and the new generation who will be our leaders one day,” she summarised smoothly but earnestly. 

“Miss Weasley, Jonathan Milton from the Wizarding Tattler,” a scrawny young man introduced himself in the back row. “Could your objective to bring in women’s leadership be perceived as detrimental to appointing the most qualified staff for the senior positions?” He asked. 

Ginny’s smile tightened marginally. “No, the research data in this is very clear - there is a pervasive performance bias in our sector and many others, this belief that men are slightly more capable or competent than women. Men are typically hired based on potential and what we believe they can do, whereas women are typically hired and promoted based on what they’ve already accomplished. This means many of the women are overqualified for the roles they fill and only apply for positions when sure they meet all of the requirements for the role, a trend that is especially true for our Black and Asian heritage colleagues who have to overcome additional access barriers. We need to tackle this bias, across the board to elevate the oftentimes over-qualified women to be the leaders they are absolutely capable of being. This is addressed by our Equal Opportunities policy, and our hiring processes have been reported transparently. If you have any queries about the process by which the latest appointments were made, please contact our HR director Millicent Bulstrode,” she nodded and looked around the room. “That will be all for today. If you have any queries, please forward them to my Assistant, Mr Davis. Thank you all,” she smiled one last time before exiting the room and heading for her office at the helm of the impressive second floor of the building.

The whole floor was renovated just before she came to post with floor-to-ceiling glass windows, reasonably-sized cubicles and offices of varying sizes along the sides of the room. Her offices ran along the back wall with a small seating area and desk for her assistant, and a wall of part-wood and part-glass that showed her desk and allowed her to see the whole floor before her. Her predecessor sure liked to be visible to all and it wasn’t quite to her taste but over the past few months she started to get used to it as well as to her new role and responsibilities as Editor-in-Chief.

She slipped her hands into the pockets of her black tailored pant-suit as she walked along the buzzing corridor to the back of the room, nodding to the passing interns and reporters who greeted her. Saturday mornings were always busy and their announcement was timed to make impact over the weekend. She had no doubts they will be swimming in howlers and carefully-worded threats by the end of day Monday, but she couldn’t care less for the moment. 

She pulled her hair up into an elegantly messy bun and kicked off her heels as she put her bluetooth into her ear and pressed number two on speed-dial, aware her best friend was on holiday and likely to be available.

It rang all of twice before Hermione picked up, sounding a bit our of breath. “Hey! How did it go?”

“Smooth as can go until the Tattler’s latest intern decided to ask if my objective to bring in women leaders could be seen as detrimental to appointing the most qualified people for the job,” she sighed a bit tiredly, glad to have the announcement over so she could get an actual good night’s sleep at some point tonight. She barely slept a wink last night and needed a headache potion pronto.

“That was to be expected. I bet someone like Lucius Malfoy will be taking a similarly hardline view, but I think you will receive a few congratulatory letters from some of the pureblood women,” Hermione offered, amusement clear in her voice. “I wish I could do some personnel changes in my department for sure,” she sighed.

“Why don’t you?” Ginny asked as she leaned against her desk, stretching her legs out and folding her arms comfortably over her chest. It was her comfort pose, one she often adopted when on the phone with her friends and even Wyn, her talented assistant, knew not to interrupt when she stood like this. 

“Honestly, the amount of paperwork involved and the complaints from those who think that once they have a government job they are indispensable are just too much too deal with on top of the regular workload,” she mused, their call briefly interrupted by a muttered conversation on her end. “Your mum is just lying down for a bit, but I’ll take you- Hey Gin, I have to go. Luna is napping and Lyra cut her foot on a shell. Call soon!”

“Bye love!” Ginny clicked the call off, wondering whether there was scope for her to go on holiday before the season was over.

With the new role and taking on a challenge to restructure the company, she didn’t really have a holiday in the past couple of years, and her Christmas was busy working as well since she had to represent the newspaper at several official celebrations including the New Years Ministry ball.

A short, gentle knock on her door alerted her that Wyn was waiting to go over her schedule so she called him in and rubbed her temple tiredly as he rattled off a list of queries and reminders regarding the budget reviews before she even checked the content for tomorrow’s edition. She nodded to each item and sat back behind her desk, putting her shoes back on for the first meeting. 

**3rd July 2016**

Monday arrived with vengeance and so did a copious amount of post that Wyn was sifting through already by the time she arrived to the office at eight. She set down a steaming vanilla latte on his desk and received a grateful look and a small stack of envelopes that passed the initial screening for her to read. 

By the time she started up her iMac and began preparing for the team meeting ahead, the threats were winning at six to the congratulatory messages of which she received four.And not so surprisingly, Hermione had been right to predict a couple of messages from the upper classes as a lovely little note from Narcissa Malfoy sat atop the pile. She might even keep that one, she mused as she looked at her diary and spotted a private message on their internal chat from Daphne.

_Need to speak with you ASAP if possible._

She looked through the glass side of her office and spotted the blonde speaking to one of the interns for a few moments before their gaze met. Daphne concluded her conversation and raised her phone in silent question if her request was seen. Ginny nodded and motioned for her to come through straight away.“Wyn,” she pressed the button on her table and continued once she got his murmured response, “Daphne is coming in, please let her through straight away.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied promptly and a few moments later opened the door for Daphne to walk in.

She was a regal sight, just like many of the women from the pureblood families who were lucky with the genetic lottery. At 5’9” she was a few inches taller than Ginny and moved with an elegance both inherited and practiced many moons ago. She looked much more casual today in a black blouse and fitted slacks, but her expression was an indicator that she was anything but casual and relaxed this morning. 

“Are you alright?” She asked first and foremost, wondering what had the usually stead-fast woman so concerned. 

Daphne nodded. “As well as can be. I’m used to receiving threats,” she handed over a couple of envelopes and took a seat across from the redhead, “but these two feel different somehow. They don’t sound like empty threats,” she summarised and Ginny took our the first letter.

_Death Eater bitch, desist poking your nose where it doesn’t belong. Don’t try my patience or there will be consequences._

“When did this arrive?” Ginny asked softly as she opened the second letter. 

“The first one a couple of weeks back, the latest this morning.”

_This is your last warning. You and the ginger bitch need to stop poking your nose where it doesn’t belong or you won’t have one left after I’ve paid you a visit._

Same tone, same type of parchment and envelope, handwriting magically altered to not reveal its author. And it was clearly about both of them this time, likely prompted by the press. She didn’t like this one bit.

“Do you think this is related to the Ministry corruption case you’re leading with Max, or the investigation into Knockturn Alley black market that you’re overseeing since June?” She asked, unsure just what to think.

“See, I thought that pertained to the black market. It’s not every day that I get called a bitch, maybe bi-weekly,” she shrugged, trying for a bit of humour despite the situation. “But whoever would try to frighten me, they wouldn’t refer to me as a Death Eater. Not when many of the people who run the black market are affiliated with the previous regime. That makes me feel like it could be coming from the Ministry,” she argued.

“I see what you mean. This sounds like… someone like Fudge, righteous and portraying themselves as politically correct but threatened because the reality of their dealings isn’t quite so black and white,” she pointed out. 

Daphne nodded. “Precisely. I think this is someone from the old guard,” she suggested, referencing the generation of their parents and those like Lucius Malfoy who had legacy, influence and their puppets at the Ministry no matter the fall from grace after the war. 

“Do you have any suspects from your current investigation?” Ginny put the threats back into the corresponding envelopes and held onto them as she looked up at the blonde.

Daphne inclined her head. “I’m not sure just yet. We’re getting some documents from our informant this week, but I suspect it could be someone from the DMLE which may be problematic,” she pointed out.

Ginny sighed and leaned back in her chair. Well fuck. She ran the potential of interfering with Hermione and Harry if it was from the Auror Corps or someone from the legal team.

Daphne looked sympathetic. “I appreciate that this might be a conflict of interest for you-“

“No,” Ginny cut her off and and unlocked her top drawer where she placed the letters from Daphne before looking at her again. “We have a job to do and so does the DMLE. It’s through our work that they get a mirror to reflect their actions and I wouldn’t jeopardise the accountability function of press,” she said simply. “What I would like is to have more concrete information from the informant by the end of the week so we can understand which way the wind blows. With that, I can notify the Head Auror of this threat so he is aware and neither them nor we take any action that may interfere with weeding this person out,” she laid out the plan clearly.

“That sounds reasonable,” Daphne agreed.

“The other concern is your safety. The standard procedure would involve moving you to one of our safe houses. How would you feel about that?” she asked. 

The blond however shook her head. “That would impact my ability to meet with my regular contacts and our key informant. I’m not going into hiding like a coward, he can try to get to me and he will fail,” she said decisively and without a hint of worry for her own well-being. 

Ginny observed her for a moment, finding her dedication to investigative work admirable despite the challenges and threats Daphne must have received over the years. “Alright, no hiding at your own request. But, I would suggest you move - to live with a friend or someone who would be able to contribute to your protection. There is power in numbers, specially for those of us trained for an attack,” she pointed out. 

Daphne conceded the point with a small smile before she realised her options were limited. “The only other place I can think of is to stay with my sister but they’ve recently moved to a new Georgian townhouse, she’s unwell and I wouldn’t to put her and little Scorpius in danger,” she admitted. 

“That would also be the obvious choice,” Ginny agreed. “I would suggest Pansy host you but we both know little Perseus is a teddy-bear sized portion of cosmic terror as well,” she grinned, the women sharing in her amusement at the toddler who clearly inherited zero chill from his laid back father and all of Pansy’s devious brilliance in spades. “What about staying at mine? I don’t live far, I wouldn’t be the the first obvious choice of a hiding place since my place has internal security, and there is a free guest room that you’re welcome to. You can come and go between the flat and the office with me as added security,” she offered.

Daphne considered the option for a moment, her vidid green gaze scrutinising her silently without giving away a single though. It was an admirable quality, one Ginny had little hope of mastering with her Gryffindor temper but continued to work towards. “Are you sure that would be acceptable? I don’t want to impose,” she finally asked.

Ginny shook her head and offered a small reassuring smile. “Perfectly fine. There’s a study that will be at your disposal if you need to work in peace in the run up to publication. I would much rather know you are safe and we get this person than risk it.”

Daphne nodded and got up. “Thank you, for today and for Saturday. I’m genuinely happy to be working here, with our team, and with you,” she offered, her words professional but tone and smile warm perhaps beyond simply collegial.

Ginny found herself returning it and stood to walk her out of the office. “Let me know when you’re ready to leave tonight, I’ll make sure to key you into the wards to get in and out as you need,” she promised. 

Daphne nodded and with a final look her way exited through the door Ginny held open for her. She watched the blonde go before turning to look at Wyn who managed to wrestle with the rest of the post and had a small basket of correspondence ready for her.

She accepted it and resolved herself to getting through them all ahead of the team meeting. Or so she hoped…

* * *

She bought the Academy Gardens three bedroom penthouse duplex apartment as her first investment with her earnings from Quidditch. The porter and most of the staff were magical which made life so much easier, and she had a large enough fireplace installed to be able to stay connected to the magical world despite the location being of mixed occupancy. The complex had a great gym and pool set up as well which suited her busy life perfectly, able to nip down for a good rigorous workout without having to travel. 

Daphne had looked around, subtly but curiously, when she first arrived before settling in the guest room. The place was stylish but there was a lived-in warmth and comfort to the atmosphere. Ginny kicked off her pumps and opened them a bottle of wine, sipping the chilled rosé as she set to cook a quick pesto and spinach gnocchi. The delicious aroma seemed to draw the blonde out, and she padded to the open plan sitting room, divided from the kitchen by elegant bar seating. Her gaze was however drawn to the wall of books and photos, especially to a section that seemed to be filled with familiar powerhouses of literature. 

“Favourite Jeanette Winterson?” She asked curiously, as Ginny plated up their meal.

“Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit,” she answered easily and smiled when the blonde nodded in agreement.

“I didn’t get to read it until my mid-twenties when I discovered muggle authors,” Daphne admitted. 

“Neither did I. I got it as a gift from Hermione and I fell in love,” Ginny set the bar for them and poured the blonde a glass of the fruity rose at her nod.

“Anne Carson?” She asked next, seeing a few titled on the shelf.

“Hmmm if I have to choose then Eros the Bittersweet,” she said thoughtfully. 

“Mine is ‘Autobiography of Red’,” Daphne smiled and spotted another powerhouse on the shelves. “Maya Angelou?”

“Urgh, you’re evil for making me choose,” she frowned. “Hmm if I had to choose then it would be 'Phenomenal Woman’. But I would really rather not choose.”

“Agreed,” the blonde sat down across from her, looking a bit more relaxed as she pulled her hair up into a quick twist and secured it with a French hair fork before digging into the gnocchi. “Toni Morrison?” She ventured, not seeing her in the shelves. 

“Her ‘Beloved’, the current read on my bedside,” Ginny chuckled as she pulled her hair up into a quick ponytail. It was definitely a sign of the day being over, shoes off, sleeves rolled up and hair out of the way. “I hope this is alright? I cook a few times a week but am prone to get take out,” she admitted. 

“As long as it’s Thai, Chinese or Saag, I’m in. Will you allow me to contribute to some of the food costs?” She asked. 

Ginny raised a brow. “Not a chance. We’re only a few weeks away from publishing this, I assure you it will be no trouble,” she promised.

Daphne acquiesced, seeing there was no changing the redhead’s mind so at least vowed to herself to cook some of the meals if she got a chance to.

Ginny noticed she didn’t look convinced and added. “I'm genuinely happy for you to stay here. I think you should absolutely take precautions when meeting with informants, carry that emergency portkey we secured for you, and don’t go out beyond the office where we can protect you. I will notify security to be on alert.”

Daphne nodded though her brow frowned. “I wish it wasn’t the case but I agree it may be necessary if if is as high profile as we think,” she sighed. 

They finished their dinner in companionable silence before heading to their respective bedrooms to get ready for bed and catch up messages and emails, getting some alone time for the evening as they were both not used to living with another person.

**6th July 2016**

“Morning,” Daphne greeted her from one of the bar stools as she sipped her double espresso and nodded to the flat white she had made for her host. It appeared the blonde was starting to find her way around a De’Longhi as well as herself. 

“Thanks,” she hummed and picked up the stack of newspapers that were laid out for her morning reading.

They’ve been colleagues for several years now and knew each other well-enough to be called acquaintances, but being in same space like this was showing them that they were not dissimilar in their tastes and habits. While her own tastes ran towards cotton in this warm weather with her loose shorts and t-shirt, she enjoyed the sight of the emerald satin hugging the blonde’s tall curves. She might have just imagined it but she could have sworn she felt an appreciative gaze sizing her up as they took each other in, still getting used to seeing each other first thing in the morning. It was barely five in the morning but the warm summer nights were enjoyable and the sun was already colouring the sky as they looked at each other across the table and she passed Daphne half of the print news stack to share her reading as she had for the past couple of days.

Daphne shuffled through her pile, pulled up the latest edition of the Tattler and stared at the front page for a long moment before clearing her throat to get Ginny’s attention.

“Anything interesting we missed?” Ginny asked, her gaze flicking up to look at her with the intention of going back to her perusal but the look on Daphne’s face made her pause. 

The blonde just passed her the newspaper and excused herself to make some tea. Ginny’s gaze flicked over the headlines and paused when she spotted her name in the second half of the page.

**Shocking accusations in Cartwright divorce case:**

**Daily Prophet Editor-in-Chief named in cheating scandal**

_The divorce of Holyhead Harpies chaser Morrigan Cartwright and Kenmare Kestrels seeker Cho Chang previously made headlines due to accusations of love potion use and infidelity. The divorce case escalated this week when conciliatory talks between the two sides collapsed and no agreement was reached. According to our sources, the Daily Prophet Editor-in-Chief Ginevra Weasley who has been labelled as a so-called trailblazer and advocate for women’s rights was mentioned by Miss Chang._

_The Kestrels’ star alleged she had evidence of Miss Weasley committing infidelity with her wife and being the root cause for break down of their relationship. This comes as a shocking revelation following years of speculations about the very private and elusive Miss Weasley’s love life._

She couldn’t read any further, feeling the nausea rippling in her stomach. Of all the people, Cho Chang was going to be her personal and professional undoing. She knew the Scot still held a schoolgirl grudge against her and had tried to ignore it in the past. When they found themselves on opposing teams during a national league game she could bear the animosity, but this was going too far. Especially as she was innocent.

She felt her phone begin vibrating incessantly on the countertop and picked it up, spotting Pansy’s name in her screen. “You’ve see it I gather?” she asked quietly.

“Is she for fucking real? How did they actually print this piece of rubbish without checking the facts? This is clearly purposeful slander,” Pansy’s voice was slightly muffled but still carried across the room due to the near silence in the flat. 

“That’s the Tattler for you. This does however mean that I will be called in for a cross-examination. And it couldn’t have come at a worse time with our equality agenda and current investigations cases,” she admitted, nodding thankfully to the blonde who just set a cup of calming camomile tea down for her before resuming her seat. 

“It all feels purposeful. I sense a rat, and I hate rats,” Pansy growled. “I’ll make my own checks through my circles to see if we can get any info on the motives behind this. In the meantime, I just need to know one thing,” she paused, knowing her friend was not going to be happy with the question she was about to ask. “Is it true? Did you have an affair or any kind of sexual contact with Morrigan Cartwright, at any point?”

Ginny sucked in a sharp breath, her temper flaring at being questioned by someone she trusted so much these days but deflated quickly, realising it was a legitimate question that she will need to have a clear and calm response to in the coming weeks. Her gaze lifted to Daphne who was observing her quietly, as if waiting for her response as well. “Absolutely not. Morrigan was a team mate and nothing else. To my knowledge I have never even shared a room with her on tour. She propositioned me, once, when she was inebriated but I declined her advances,” she said clearly, seeing something shift in Daphne’s gaze. 

“Do you have a witness to the proposition and refusal?” Pansy asked, just to be sure.

“Two actually, one of them Gwenog who will vouch for me without bias,” she admitted.

“And the other person?” Pansy asked impatiently. 

The redhead hesitated, feeling Daphne’s gaze on her once again. “Tatiana Dobreva.”

“The Ukranian beater?” Pansy asked curiously and after another beat of silence asked the question on all of their minds. “And would she be able to vouch for you without bias?” She asked. 

“She would be able to vouch for me not spending the night with Morrigan,” she paused before plunging ahead, knowing it was unavoidable at this point, “because I spent it with her,” she admitted, feeling the weight of the admission.

Despite being a national quidditch star, Ginny guarded her privacy like a hawk. The days when she wanted to be seen on the arm of the Boy-Who-Lived were long gone when she realised her tastes ran towards her own sex as she matured into herself. She’d never dated publicly, preferred to have her fun privately, and focused on her career. There was nothing in her past that she was ashamed of but she knew that rarely mattered in the court of public perception.

Pansy only remained silent for a beat, realising what the admission cost her friend who wasn’t out to nearly anyone. “That would be an excellent witness if you’re ready to go public?” She prompted gently, her usually sharp tone considerate. It was something Ginny appreciated in tense moments such as these. 

“I don’t care what it costs, but I won’t have my character and therefore the leadership of the newspaper tarnished like this. Do you have someone good on retainer? This is technically not an accusation against the newspaper so I will need to be represented privately and I just dropped my last lawyer,” she admitted. 

“Say no more, I’ll ask him to give you a call later today,” Pansy promised.

“Thanks Pans, for everything,” she said softly. 

“Anytime, and I do mean it. We’ll get you through this. I’ll see you in the office later today,” she promised and after final goodbyes ended the call. 

Daphne shifted in her seat and Ginny looked up to see whether she was now discomfited due to the revelations. The blonde was however quietly sipping her tea and observing her without disgust or worry, rather with curiosity, a sparkle in her malachite eyes.

“I hope this doesn’t changes anything between us,” Ginny offered, feeling hopeful at the lack of outwards hostility. It was true that their community was less judgemental than the often-times homophobic muggles, but there were no guarantees.

“Not at present,” she said simply, not specifying her meaning.

Ginny chose to step away and take her emotions in so she got off the stool and took her tea and newspapers with her. “I’m going to shower and get ready. We can leave around six-thirty?” She suggested. 

“I’ll be ready,” Daphne nodded and watched her leave the kitchen quietly.

Ginny Weasley was a remarkable woman, she knew it the moment they met three years ago when she transferred to the Prophet after a five year stint reporting on corruption in Marseilles and tax evasion in Saint Tropez. Coming back home to Britain was a trying task, especially after being gone so long and society moving on, but she was all the more glad to be closer to Astoria whose health was deteriorating. Ginny was at that point working her way up as the Managing Editor and not only had a bright mind that helped her spot patterns many a time but also a keen attention to detail and passion for reporting that Daphne hadn’t encountered during her previous career. And as Editor-in-Chief, she was even more fierce and driven to pave the way for honest, accountable and equitable publishing environment.

Perhaps that was why she first fell in love with the intriguing mind and intellect behind those amber eyes, and now in the comfort of the redhead’s home found herself all the more eager to get to know her.Hopefully they will have the chance to, especially now that she knew she was not alone in her sapphic inclinations. But first, she needed to nail that meeting with her source today…

**14th July 2016**

She looked at the three wide-brimmed bowls before her. One would think she arranged them by the amount of correspondence in each, left to right from least to most. Truth be told, she wished the scales were tipped the other way instead of this sad reality. Two weeks since ‘the speech’, as Pansy kept referring to it, the tally was in. 

Number of compliments received - 27

Number of threats - thinly veiled and outright hostile alike - 42

Number of letters that failed to pass the safety screening for malicious curses and potions- 68

Blaise Zabini was everything she remembered him to be - cool and collected, elegant and sharp in a tailored suit. She had of course met him a few times as Pansy’s husband but never in a professional capacity, and she was glad he was to be her council and not her opposition. Their initial meeting took all of thirty minutes as he took stock of the whole situation - the announcement, the threats to herself and Daphne, the divorce of her ex-team mate and the defamation of her character that could threaten her future and the future of the Prophet.

He took copies of all notes, any records of meetings, and even a copy of her memories of the night when Morrigan had come onto her. His advice could be summarised to three key points;

One, the answer to any questions from the media was ‘Please turn to my legal counsel for any queries’ or ‘No comment’.

Two, avoid printing anything about the Cartwright divorce as this will ensure appearance of impartiality.

And finally, get additional security on the flat, especially since Daphne was living with her and they were both a target. 

At this point she decided to avoid physically going to the Ministry and invited both Harry and Hermione to dinner instead, where she explained the situation and Daphne indicated their current findings which didn’t bode well for the department. Her informant had indeed confirmed that she’d witnessed bribery and potentially illegal practices in two offices of the DMLE, specifically in the prosecution team. Hermione had been furious initially as this part of the department was under her care, but when she looked at the evidence compiled by Daphne’s team, she couldn’t deny that some of the prosecution outcomes didn’t stack up in light of the additional ties to the prosecutors.

There were two main suspects so far; Alistair Fawley and Carlisle Smith.

Two men who started their careers with considerable wealth under their belts and worked their way through the legal office into the upper echelons of the prosecution department. Fawley was a Sacred Twenty-Eight family name, and boy did Alistair represent its virtues in the most conniving of ways. He never spoke out publicly against muggleborns, but he also never had represented any and instead prosecuted quite a few. Smith may have been a half-blood himself but was married to Mariah Selwyn whose Dear Eater brother fell at Hermione’s very wand during the war. Ginny was impressed when Daphne showed them the magical spider web of both their connections that showed just how several of the key cases they prosecuted actually benefited their contacts and the key pureblood families. It was a web of prosecution and Wizengamot corruption that could potentially reach further than Fawley and Smith, which is why this information was so precious. And by the look on Hermione’s and Harry’s faces, they realised just what was at stake.

That was how she found herself with Seamus Finnigan of all people, camping outside her office and slouching on the guest sofa while Wyn tried to ignore him fastidiously (sadly with little success) and taking turns with Dennis Creevey outside her apartment. It was maddening to feel that additional presence and she felt like she couldn’t breathe sometimes, but at least she had a decent balcony and Daphne’s presence in her home has become comforting over the past couple of weeks. She had to endure just one more week of this, the publishing of Daphne’s article in a few days, and the divorce proceedings next week.

She saw Wyn positively twitch when Seamus began whistling subconsciously, and decided to give him a break. “Seamus,” she buzzed through and the Irishman made his way over, sticking his head through the door. 

“You movin’?” He asked. 

She shook her head and pointed at the clock. “Why don’t you go take your lunch break early? I have a meeting with Wyn and I won’t be moving anywhere,” she offered. 

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. “No leaving the floor though,” he said pointedly before heading off to get something from the bistro across the street.

She could see Wyn’s shoulders slump slightly before he rolled his neck tiredly and dropped his favourite pen like it burned. She guessed he’d been holding it too tightly again.

“Wyn, would you please come in?” She buzzed through and saw him brace himself before coming in, the picture of professionally with his Filofax ready.

“Yes, ma’am?” He stood and waited.

“I’m sorry the past week has been trying, I appreciate you have to put up with the additional Auror presence,” she offered but he shook his head minutely. 

“Whatever is necessary to keep you safe, ma’am,” he said simply but she could see he meant every word.

Bless him, she couldn’t have asked for a better assistant if she tried. “Thank you. I was going to offer if you wanted to-“

His Filofax dropped to the floor, startling her mid-sentence as she looked up from her desk to see him raising his wand. Her instincts kicked in and she dodged to the left, feeling a curse his her chair as she took cover behind her sturdy desk and dropped her own wand from her sleeve. With a quick protego shield around her, she straightened up and dodged another curse before casting a stunner that missed him by half an inch.

“Bombarda!” A cool voice rang out and the glass of her office wall shattered just as Wyn hurled a cutting hex at her, the impact sending him into to the floor and knocked him out.

Ginny felt the searing pain of the hex as it knicked her shoulder and looked down to her chest. The blasted thing took off a chunk of her long locks and dug in just under her clavicle. And it fucking hurt.

She felt a hand grip her arm, supporting her into a nearby seat. “Ginny,” Daphne’s soothing voice instantly made her shoulders release some of their tension. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” She asked and muttered the healing charm for the wound, leaving behind a thin red line, before casting a reparo on the silky material of her burgundy shirt. 

“I’m fine,” Ginny said softly, the sound of the whole floor buzzing with fright and and interest filtering through. “I need to address the floor. And we need to check and secure Wyn,” her sharp focus kicked back in as she stood.

Daphne’s pursed lips indicated she disagreed with this plan but she wisely chose to clean up the mess of glass shards and blood, casting a spell to darken all the glass facing the rest of the floor to conceal what was going on inside the office. Her last spell was to levitate her still-unconscious assistant into a seat, thick black ropes shooting out of her wand to secure him in place before he awoke.

Pansy pushed through the door and took stock of the whole situation. “Are you hurt?” She asked, noticing the cut hair on one side.

Ginny grabbed her hair tie and pulled it into a low bun to hide the evidence of the attack, knowing that for all intents and purposes she looked unharmed. “I'm fine, let’s calm the situation before we address this,” she motioned at the chair and Daphne nodded to let her know she would stay and watch over him.

It took them a good twenty minutes to calm everyone down and ask all staff to be on high alert and to be careful when traveling in and out of the office. They knew most of the younger staff wouldn’t have been in such a dangerous situation before, and their generation was likely to have lingering trauma from the war, so they made sure to be available by Pansy offering her door to be open for anyone with any queries or experiencing anxiety following the attack.

When she returned to the office, she found a bewildered Wyn, awake and pale as a sheet, and an unamused Daphne leaning back against her desk, twirling her beautifully carved olive wand almost leisurely. Ginny could however tell she was anything but leisurely and relaxed, her stance apparently casual but leg bent in a way that would allow her to lunge or dodge if she needed. 

“Thank you, Daphne,” she offered and the blonde looked like she was ready to protest being dismissed but Ginny instead motioned at one of the chairs and invited her to take a seat, letting her know she didn’t want her to go just yet.

Wyn whipped his head around and a torrent of apologies began pouring out. “Ma’am I swear to you I don’t know what happened, I’m so sorry, I would never-“

“Wyn!” She raised her voice and hand to stop him, the young man falling silent immediately at the commanding tone.

She took her own seat and looked him in the eyes, seeing just how confused and frightened he was, and knew this was not his fault. “Are you injured?” She asked.

He blinked at her owlishly for a moment, completely caught off guard. “I…I’m fine but that doesn’t matter. I nearly-“

“No,” Ginny said firmly, stopping another incoming overflow of guilt. “Your health and well-being matters just as much as mine. I’m glad you’re unharmed but we will have to find out what happened. And I have a pretty good idea but we will have to wait for Seamus’ assessment,” she sighed. “In the meantime, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait as you will have to submit yourself to Auror investigation.”

“I will do anything to prove to you that I didn’t mean to do this,” Wyn said in a soft trembling voice just as the door was pushed open and Seamus came in with his half-eaten sandwich.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left,” he muttered but his eyes had already taken in the evidence around him and wand slipped into his hand, ready to process what happened.

He checked the restraints on the suspect first and nodded to the blonde for a good job before taking verbal accounts from them both, and their memories as evidence. He reviewed them in a portable pensive and came back out shortly. “I think you’re right, it was only a flash but I will check,” he promised.

“Check what?” Daphne asked.

“Imperius, with a twist,” Ginny said softly, noticing Wyn’s gaze widening and Daphne’s gaze harden.

Seamus stepped up to him and pulled up a chair to be on the same level. “We suspect the reason you attacked when you did was due to a modified Imperius curse - one with a condition, likely triggered by being left alone with your intended target. I will have to review your memories but it may cause you some pain, anywhere from a mild headache to a migraine, depending on how talented the castor was. I can get permission from my supervisor to do this investigation or you can sign a statement that you willingly wish to submit yourself for evidence. If this case goes to court, it will be seen as favourable if you submit yourself to voluntary investigation,” he explained. 

Wyn set his shoulders, this spine straight and brilliant grey gaze bright and stormy. “I will need a pen,” he said clearly. 

Daphne flicked her wand and the thick ropes slithered off his trim form in order to allow him to sign the form Seamus had ready for him. He allowed himself to be placed in magic-dampening, cuffs just in case his magic reacted to the pressure on his mind, and sat still as Seamus slipped into his mind.

It took twenty minutes and both Seamus and Wyn came out of the exchange with sweat dripping down their temples, Wyn in visible pain. Ginny flicked her wand to pull the blinders down the windows facing the street to dull the light in the office and opened her bottom drawer which held some necessary potions in case of emergencies.

Seamus released the cuffs and transfigured the seat into a sofa for him to lie down. “He’ll need a nutrient potion as well if you have one, his blood pressure is really low and the spell took a lot out of his magical core,” he offered and slumped back in his own seat, casting a few spells to freshen up and cool off.

Ginny distributed their potions and waited impatiently for the news. “Well?”

Seamus nodded but grimaced when the motion unsettled his head, still waiting for the headache cure to kick in. “Modified Imperius, as we predicted. Whoever cast it had the knowledge but the execution was sloppy,” he admitted, and Ginny could see instantly that he was disquieted by the news. 

“Who was it?”

Seamus grimaced but admitted the name as she had the right to know. “Zacharias Smith.”

She looked at Daphne, their case made - Carlisle Smith had ordered his son, his Auror son, to make a hit on her and the office she represented.

It took two more hours to sort out a conference call with Harry and Hermione, take down full witness statements and all evidence that was in place, enough to make initial arrest and get Kingsley to sign warrant for questioning under veritaserum. Pansy updated Blaise on all that was happening as well and slowly but surely her office quieted down, Daphne excusing herself for a moment as well.

Ginny stepped around her desk and sat in a chair beside Wyn’s resting form, seeing his eyes open slowly to look at her. She could see the migraine was making his head hurt despite the potion he ingested and the earlier buzz of activity must have aggravated him as well.

“We should get you to St. Mungo’s for a quick check up, just to make sure there are no further consequences of the spell,” she suggested. 

His voice croaked as he replied softly. “That won’t be necessary. I should be fine to leave with Mr Finnigan shortly.”

She shook her head resolutely. “You won’t be leaving with Seamus. Pansy will take you to recover into one of our safe-houses. It’s being set up for you as we speak and we approved a two-week fully paid leave and access to a counsellor for you.”

“I…you won’t be pressing charges?” He asked, astonished. 

“Of course not. You were cursed to attack me, it’s not your fault. You’re more loyal than most of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs that I’ve known in my life,” she offered a small smile, seeing the hope and delight at the praise in his gaze. “Honestly Wyn, if it’s in my means and you wish you work with me, you’ll always have a place on my team, even if I one day leave the Prophet and change careers. You’ve more than proved your loyalty and worth this past year and a half.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said softly, voice raspy with emotion. 

Ginny chuckled. “Honestly, I think it’s about bloody time you stop calling me ma’am and start calling me by my name. I mean you practically gave me a hair cut, I think that sort of counts as bonding time, right?” She grinned teasingly. 

“Thank you…Ginny,” he tested her name and offered a smile in return.

“Good, let’s get you up and going,” she supported his shoulder as he sat up slowly, his head still clearly tender. Pansy met them in his office, his work laptop and notes all packed up and filed so he had a fresh desk when he returned.

“Who will look after you until I get back?” He asked anxiously, two weeks was a long time.

“I’ll manage as I always do when you go on holidays, which is not often enough,” she pointed out and handed him over, watching as he was led towards Pansy’s private floo chamber. 

She sighed and headed back inside her office, flicking her wand to get some light in through the windows but decided to keep the glass wall separating her office from the rest of the floor darkened so no one would see inside. Five minutes of peace was all she needed so the curled up on the now empty sofa and closed her eyes.

Zacharias Smith, very likely on the orders of his father, cursed her personal assistant on his way to work. She could see the spiderweb of cause and effect in her mind’s eyes so clearly. 

Daphne catching wind of the corruption at Ministry, causing up a stir with her investigation. Cue in the initial threats towards her and the investigative team.

So much of the old guard at the Ministry has been replaced after the war, young and bright witches were finally making their way into leadership, upsetting the pureblood views and and legacy placements.

Ginny makes a statement encouraging further replacements and positive action by replacing some of the current stagnant leadership and performance bias, and cue the escalation in threats.

It all came down to one thing - power.

She had it, continued to gain more, and their power was threatened.

So their response was as predictable as can be - to threaten, belittle and damage her reputation until she was too scared, too tired, and powerless to advance her agenda. It was laughably easy to spot the pattern, even this whole defamation attempt with Morrigan’s divorce she was sure was paid for. As much as the attack shook her internally, she knew it was a good sign that they were very close to the truth.

The plan was simple - the attack escalated the threat and they had enough evidence to bring both Smiths in, and hold Fawley in custody to prevent flight. Kingsley was signing the paperwork as she lay there, and Daphne was likely going to work overtime the next couple of days to finalise the article and they would publish once the arrests were confirmed. She was ready to dedicate half the edition for the whole background on the case, connections map that will take two full pages at least once visually designed, and current information on the investigation by the DMLE.

She was interrupted from her rest by a knock the door. “Come in,” she called through. Daphne stepped in, followed by a petite brunette who wasn’t familiar to her. She stood up and straightened her blouse, looking to the blonde for explanation. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure who you usually go to but I thought it would be safer to have someone come here and sort out your hair?” Daphne offered, hoping she wasn’t overstepping. “This is Delphine Ingram, the founder of a French salon in Knightsbridge that I usually go to. She was happy to come in and help you regrow and style or do a cut,” she offered.

Ginny stepped forward and shook the Frenchwoman’s hand. “Thank you for coming. Ginny Weasley,” she introduced herself.

“Great to meet you! I read about you, the article where you talked about égalité! I am a big fan,” Deplhine smiled warmly, and Ginny found herself a bit more at ease. 

“Thank you. And I will be even more grateful if you could sort me out,” Ginny took down the bun and showed her the state of the mess.

Delphine tutted, muttering to herself in French. To be fair, it was a disaster. Her hair reached just below her shoulder-blades, falling down in styled layers that were easy to upkeep and gave the silky strands some body. Now she was sporting a random bit where the hex cut off five inches easily.

“I could try to grow this, I have a fast acting potion, but even then it would be maybe ten centimetres - oh uhm…three inches?” Dephine broke the news that would be considered a tragedy by most of her clients. 

Ginny shrugged, it was just hair at the end of the day. She kept it long out of habit from when she needed it up in a bun. Might as well get a shorter cut in that she could grow out and play around with. “Happy to cut it, as long as it’s not a pixie,” she mused.

Delphine smiled brightly. “Oh I think you have the perfect features for a long bob! A very slightly gradual one. Something sharp for events but good for casual if you want to move the parting and push it back…” and off she was, explaining different styling methods and opening up her Pinterest to show her pictures of styling suggestions. 

Daphne left then to it but motioned to Ginny she would be next door, just in case. The grateful little smile from the redhead served to settle her nerves about overstepping he replace with this. 

Delphine didn't take long, her sweeping blunt 'lob' a beautiful change after so many years of long hair. Her payment was vehemently refused but Ginny vowed to become a regular at Delphine's salon as she thanked her a final time and let Daphne take care of seeing her out. 

She could feel exhaustion seeping into her muscles after the earlier rush of adrenaline but knew it would be a fitful night. She liked to think she was well past the war, but whether one or eighteen years later, there were still memories that continued to haunt her occasionally that she hadn't shared with anyone. 

By the time she exited the office with her work packed, Daphne was already waiting for her, ready to get home. Once in the safety of her flat, she headed straight for the shower to wash the day off and returned to the sitting room to fragrant coconut rice and Thai curry. 

"I thought take out would be easiest," Daphne offered from her spot on the sofa where she was curled up in a pair of mint green silk sleeping shorts and a light camisole that did little to hide her soft alabaster skin and constellations of little brown moles that Ginny liked to trace with her gaze. 

"Thank you....for everything. I know it was your spell that stopped Wyn. And Delphine is an artist," she sighed as she sank into the seat beside her, pushing her hair behind her ears, still getting used to the shorter length. 

"She really is, this cut suits you very much," Daphne smiled and handed over a bowl with a bit of everything for Ginny to pick on. 

"How are we doing on the draft?" Ginny asked as she accepted her chopsticks. 

"It will be ready first thing in the morning. I'm just proof-reading it when I wake up and will hand it over afterwards," she promised. 

"This will be one of the biggest investigations in the history of the Prophet. You should be proud of yourself and your team." 

"Thank you..." Daphne replied softly in response to the praise. 

Ginny's words were earnest and she could feel the blonde's gaze scrutinising her for a long moment as they ate quietly for the rest of the meal. She was wrung out and ready for bed but could feel the anxiety rising in her chest at the prospect of the nightmares. 

"I hope you don't mind me suggesting this but...would you like me to stay with you tonight?" The blonde asked gently. 

Ginny looked at her hesitant expression, trying to decide if she could take the risk. Daphne was technically her employee, she didn't even want to get into the ethics of the situation. But in the quiet moments like this, she could feel the growing connection between them, two human beings drawn to each other, woman to woman. She wondered whether she imagined it to begin with, the interest she thought she spotted in Daphne's gaze, but every fibre of her being told her that this connection, this attraction was very much mutual and only a matter of time. 

Seeing her hesitation, Daphne revealed something she never shared with anyone before. "After a tough case, I usually go lie low somewhere warm for a couple of weeks. Last time I went to Thailand, Cuba the time before that. But I've always really wanted to take someone with me. Someone who understood why I needed the time, someone to be there with me and for me when the nightmares from the threats sank in," she admitted softly. 

Ginny nodded, understanding what she meant. "I love my job, I love the work that we do as media, but sometimes it feels like too much to shoulder, especially as a woman open to the scrutiny of other media and public. The trolls grow more vicious each year, I'm mostly used to skimming the words and compartmentalising. But sometimes I can feel them echo and rattle around in my head… And today....today made me think of the Carrows," she paused and looked into the flames in the fireplace. "Amycus had a gift for mental torture in particular, he liked to create a mental echo that would focus on your self doubt and whisper it back to you repeatedly to completely destabilise your mind. He liked to use it after Cruciatus when the mind was vulnerable." 

Daphne stood and offered her a hand to help her up. "I can try to keep memories of him away tonight. If you'd like," she offered softly. 

And Ginny took it, their fingers naturally lacing as they headed to her bedroom together. 

* * *

The night had been fitful, she woke up a few times, either in Daphne's comforting hold and warm body spooned along the length of her back, or resting on her soft chest, soothed by a hummed French lullaby that sounded familiar. 

It was no wonder then she was the first to wake up in the morning, Daphne succumbing to rest some time in the night as well. She took a moment to take the blonde’s peaceful features in, the soft lines around her closed eyes, slightly parted rosy lips and mused hair that looked like a waterfall of gold silk on her indigo sheets. 

"It's rude to stare, you know," she mumbled, interrupting Ginny's observation, her malachite gaze half-lidded but clearly trying to decipher if she was well. 

"I don't think I could stop if I wanted to," Ginny admitted softly, soft freckled hand reaching up to move a displaced lock of hair. 

She wasn't really sure who moved first or if they just met in the middle but she could feel her very magical core pulse in recognition of the other witch the moment their lips met in a careful but earnest kiss. Their bodies slid against each other as she was pulled closer, higher on the pillow to better align them. She groaned softly as her lips parted for the blonde’s insistent tongue and their thighs twined, pressing against flesh that has been deprived of intimate touch for far too long over the past year. 

“Wait-wait,” Ginny panted, fighting her want with reason.

“Alright?” Daphne paused, pulling back a little to look at her but not relenting her hold, keeping their bodies close. 

Ginny nodded before pausing and shaking her head. “I don’t….I want to, very much, to continue but it doesn’t feel right, not right now,” she admitted, watching her with a worried look, trying to convey that this was not a refusal.

Daphne took a deep breath before nodding and placing a bit of space between them. “We need to publish this article and you have a cross-examination to prepare for.”

Ginny nodded. “I’ve always wanted to travel through Italy one day,” she admitted, hoping the blonde would catch the hint following their conversation last night. 

Daphne caught on by the spark in her gaze and smiled. “That can be arranged,” she promised and allowed herself to catch Ginny’s lips for a quick peck before they got up and headed for the kitchen to get their morning started. 

**20th July 2016**

It began with a statement on women in leadership, it was only fitting that it ended with another statement proving its worth. Blaise’s touch was light on the small of her back as he guided her outside the court room and they paused by the fountain in the Ministry Atrium where the reporters were all gathered, eager for any word.

“My client would like to address her contribution to the proceedings today and the wider context of her presence here,” Blaise told the gathered crowd and stepped back, leaving her the centre of attention. 

Ginny squared her shoulders, looking at her peers and colleagues, seeing the thirst for information. “As you will all be aware, the Prophet published a special edition two days ago, focused on our investigation into the the corruption in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. This was the largest investigation undertaken by a modern Wizarding newspaper in Britain in the past decade and we are proud to have worked with the Head of DMLE and Head Auror to uncover this unacceptable practice in a department whose main purpose is to deliver justice to our community,” she began, seeing she had them all hooked.

“This investigation led to targeted action taken against my person and the Prophet’s investigative team, which included written threats, physical attack with intent to injure, and defamation. As my legal council stated, my presence here today is related to this wider context as it was just proven during cross-examination that Miss Chang received payment of ten thousand galleons to publicly testify I was the cause of her marriage break-down, and to defame my character and the leadership of the Prophet in the process. I would like to deny once and for all any allegations of relations with Miss Cartwright who was a colleague and team mate only,” she took a small breath before the next part, feeling Blaise shift beside her, nodding to her supportively. 

“My private life is just that, private, and whom I date does in no way affect my leadership of the Daily Prophet. I will therefore ask that you respect my privacy and help me address the need for more female leadership in our ranks and in the Government, to replace the remnants of our past such as Messers Smith and Fawley who continue to fight positive change.”

She finished on a strong note and refused any further questions, glad for Blaise leading her to the nearest floo.

It was over, no more threats for the time being. She could take a breather, and perhaps that much needed holiday. As she stepped out into her living room and spotted Daphne waiting for her patiently, Ginny knew she was home.

**11th August 2016**

A soft groan escaped her lips as she arched into the blonde’s touch, the maddeningly steady pace of her fingers was slowly driving her body to a peak she could practically taste. 

“I’m so close..fuck…” a soft whine rose in the back of her throat as she planted her heels into the mattress and pressed her hips closer into the touch.

“Ah-ah,” Daphne tutted, pausing in her ministrations to curl the tips of her fingers against that rough little spot that made the redhead’s breath hitch, enjoying the sight of her chest roll as she arched in pleasure. 

She leaned over the strong freckled belly to reach the redhead’s lips and pulled her into a deep kiss, tasting the salt of the sweat gathering on her upper lip. “You going to come for me?” She hummed against her lips.

She caressed the straining biceps tugging on her sticking charm that held Ginny’s arms pressed up above her head, before making her way down to one of the pebbled nipples and tweaking it sharply. 

Ginny nodded frantically, her eyes dark as night with need. “Harder..,” she pleaded, her eyes shattering closed as Daphne picked up the pace of her touch, the heel of her palm rubbing against her oversensitive clit. 

Daphne watched in rapture as her partner drew closer and closer to completion, leaning down to steal a finally kiss. “Come,” she whispered against her rosy lips and felt the strong muscles clamp around her touch as Ginny’s body shuddered and arched with her peak. 

No matter how many times they did this, she couldn’t get enough of the redhead. She’s met her match and as the hot Venetian sun caressed her feet, Daphne was certain she would love this woman for many years to come.

She flicked her fingers and released the magical hold on Ginny’s wrists, getting pulled down for another kiss. Their heated bodies pressed against each other, rolling to the side to cool off following the exertion.

Daphne pulled away and her soft expression shifted into a cheeky grin. “You know, it’s comforting knowing that you can take female leadership as well as deliver it.”

Ginny’s laughter was full of joy as she laid back and tried to catch her breath. “You’ll be the death of me, I swear,” she grinned.

“Hmmm happy birthday, love,” Daphne nuzzled her nose happily.

_Happy birthday to me indeed_ , Ginny thought to herself as her lips made their way down her lover’s neck. She turned thirty-five that very morning, ready for another year of making positive change in their world, with the woman she fell in love with by her side from now on. 

**Fin.**


End file.
